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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898064">The Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veritas1321/pseuds/Veritas1321'>Veritas1321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dementia, Fighting, Horror, Loss, self mutilation, uhhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:41:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veritas1321/pseuds/Veritas1321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The estate gains an ally that no one expected, it is time we see how they fair</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ok so I know I am doing one for the ocean born class but honestly, I lost motivation cause I felt like it just sucked horribly so now I'm doing this as the idea for the class has been on my mind for a while</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rumble of the stagecoach rocked the man back and forth, shaking his head he looked around with mild confusion. What the hell was he doing here? His head was hurting again. While annoying it wasn’t the main focus of his situation. Noticing a young woman in the coach with him he smiled to her hoping that she wasn’t some sort of captor or outlaw. She had a wide hat with a few feathers sticking out the top. Under it held some clean ginger hair that was pulled back into that weird spiral thing some women did. For clothing, she had a rather normal attire except for the pants legs, and the sleeves of her attire had what he could only describe as balloons of cloth. What was the most fun about her outfit was the long musket she had right next to her. Oh, he must be doing something fun then...Maybe. The woman was staring out the window at the woods speeding by. </p><p>For a split second he felt the need to strike up a conversation, but quickly waving away the idea of it he just slumped down into his seat. Would likely just make things awkward as he usually did. Wait but what if things were different? Maybe, it’s been a while since he had a meaningful conversation. Putting on a smile he attempted to say something, but before he could even get a word out a loud boom could be heard behind them. Shit. Opening the door keeping both of them from falling out he poked his head out trying to figure out what made that damn noise. The lady must have had the same idea as she shouted from the other side “BRIGANDS!” Great, not even 5 minutes into this trip and things are going to shit. But she was right, multiple brigands were ringing towards them on malformed beasts that could only loosely be described as horses. Their bodies convulsed with each step and vines seemed to grow from old wounds from inside them.</p><p>Thankfully there were only three but the problem was that two of them had guns, they had the more wide end of the barrel unlike the woman’s but a gun is a gun. Turning to the said woman he shouted “how good of a shot is ya?” he shouted as he ducked inside before the brigands could take aim.<br/>
“The best around,” she said in what he would call cocky tone but was more focused on loading and readying her musket<br/>
“Well can you shoot those guys between the eyes?”<br/>
“Of course I can”<br/>
“Well then my friend I suggest you do so before they shoot us,” he said before batting himself down to find something to help him. Before he could find something a volley of bullets from the brigand's guns hit the stagecoach. A few shots pierced the back but thankfully nothing that would be fatal. He couldn’t see who was driving this thing but he could hear his shouting and commanding of the horses to go faster than they were. He couldn’t tell the difference on his end really as the bumping was annoying either way. Another crack of gunfire could be heard, this one was louder than before. This was followed by the sound of shouting from the brigands. Looking out, the one in the that had a gun had fallen but the horse still intent on catching the pair </p><p>“Shoot the horses, the men can't catch us and the beasts seem to hate us just as much as they do” He shouted as he pulled out a flintlock pistol. He didn’t use this often but this was not a good time to be showing off. Aiming for one of the beasts legs he fired with a crack. He had missed it. The lead brigand laughed at him while the bullet hit the ground. Asshole. Ducking back inside the woman across from him gave him a “really?” look. “Hey! I am soddy at shooting! Hand to hand is my forte” She didn’t even give him an answer as another blast could be heard behind them. Poking his head out he hardly had enough time to duck his head out of the way of a knife swing. The leader of the trio awkwardly kicked him back from his horse and dismounted his horse and onto the stagecoach, he was smiling as if he had already won. The musket woman was in the middle of reloading so he would have to take care of this. </p><p>Standing back up just in time to get a knife to the gut the thug laughed loudly at this. Pain shot through him but he powered through it. He threw a punch into the arm of the opposing man with a loud crunch sound. The brigand shouted out in pain as he let go of the knife to recoil and take the pressure off of the injured arm. Pulling the knife from his stomach he quickly stabbed into the man’s throat before he could react. Gurgling came from his mouth as blood slowly dripped down and on his hands. Before the man could fall over he kicked him off the moving coach and into the mount that was running alongside causing it to stumble and fall. Poking his head back out of the cart at the last pursuer he could see that during his scuffle with the leader the malformed horse that the woman shot the owner of had fallen, likely shot by her. The last one was missing, probably ran away from them after losing his two allies. These guys must've not have expected such a resistance.</p><p>A throat clear behind him reminded him that he was with the company, shit he spaced out again. Turning around the musketeer was holding some bandages in her hand “your injured” with a flat tone in her voice. Raising up his hand he waved away the thought “don’t worry about me, I’m fine” he said with a weak chuckle. “I don’t care if you're fine, you are injured” She motioned to her bandages as if to say ‘I’m doing it’. Grumbling and shaking his head he practically shouted “fine!” lifting up his shirt he revealed that the deep wound was far from as bad as it should’ve been. In fact, the wound was already near closed</p><p>The musketeer’s eyes widened, she had begun reaching for her gun, likely thinking him some sort of monster. Kinda panicking now he held up his hands defensively “LOOK I’M HUMAN!” he exclaimed. This was for not as she had her gun aimed at his head now “give me proof you are not an unholy thing on the run from the church'', ok so now he can at least say she was at least somewhat religious. Good to know. Looking around him he tried to think of something “uhhh erm. If I was on the run then why would I be taking a job...I mean that’s where we are going to do right?” He was asking this to just about anyone who could hear but made sure to make it sound like he was giving proof rather than asking. She gave him an odd glace and lowered her gun for a split second</p><p>He knew he likely wouldn’t have another chance without giving up his life story so he shot forward pushing the barrel off to the side and up. Grasping onto it with both hands he struggled to keep it away from his body. Another loud crack was heard as the musketeer shot instinctively. He could feel the force of the shot go through the gun. The shot went through the top of the cart and he could feel the cart start to go faster as if the driver thought they were being attacked again before the cart went back to normal. The woman wasn’t as strong as he was, far from it in fact. She obviously only relied on her musket for combat so he knew he was much safer than initially thought. Ripping the gun away from her he held out his hand to tell her to stop<br/>
“Ok look, I can’t really talk about my deep dark backstory you so desperately wanna know about, but I can tell you I ain’t gonna kill you”<br/>
The musketeer grumbled as she reached under her cloak. Realizing she likely had a sidearm he quickly held her musket out the open door of the cart “WOAH! Don’t you dare, or else I drop it and you don’t see it again” This stopped her. Holding both her hands up she gave the universal I surrender sign. Bringing the musket back in he sighed softly “ok so now that we are not gonna kill each other, what’s your name?”<br/>
“Margret”<br/>
“Well that’s good, my name is Veritas,” He said before tossing her musket back<br/>
Catching it she cocked an eyebrow “You trust me?” she asked holding the musket up<br/>
“Nope! But it’s not loaded and it would take to long for you to reload”<br/>
“Most people don’t think like that”<br/>
“I may be paranoid but there is no way Ima keep someone’s property from them for long”<br/>
She didn’t respond to this as they could feel the coach slow down, they must have arrived. Sticking his hand out to Margaret he asked “no hard feelings?” a bit hopefully. She didn’t answer and walked off the coach as soon as it stopped. Sighing softly he followed her off hoping that he could make something of this situation.</p><p>The hamlet was far from what he expected, the place was a mess. From the look of Margaret, he expected some high paying person to run this place. But from the look of things, the employer could hardly keep his shit together, if the town he resided in had any indication. The place was in shambles, he could see all the buildings with large gaping holes in them. From degradation from the looks of it. However, the abbey at the top of the hill was looking better than the others despite the Giant hole in the roof. Despite all of this he couldn’t help as a wide smile spread across his face. Oh, this was gonna be fun, he could feel it.</p>
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